Nighttime Rituals
by dumpling47
Summary: One-shot. In which the boys take a bath together, Sherlock is a tease, and John is all too willing. Very obvious Johnlock.


_**A member of the production crew for Season 3 tweeted a picture of a bathtub and then promptly deleted it. Needless to say, though, it caused much speculation and excitement. Here's a particularly slashy take on what it may have meant.**_

* * *

It was a sort of nighttime ritual, really. I would brush my teeth, wash my face, etc. while Sherlock drew himself a bath (according to him, soaking helped him think). I always complained that it was a huge waste of water, but I suspect Mrs. Hudson was chipping in with the rent a little, so it didn't really matter, in the end.

Anyway, it was a night like any other. Sherlock had already been in the tub for about an hour (once he was in, there was no getting him out), and I had just come up to go through with my own routine. Facing the mirror, I took a washcloth to the face, scrubbing myself clean. I was doing this when I heard a quiet splash of water and that one word - the word that set my spine tingling:

"John."

I looked up and caught Sherlock's reflection in the mirror. It was too much, really, seeing him dripping wet like that - not to mention completely in the nude. I'd never been able to confess my feelings for him, but I know he suspected; I was about as obvious as the Anderson/Donovan pairing. Besides that, he was always sort of teasing me, tormenting me because _he knew._ God, was it embarrassing.

Tonight was certainly no exception.

"John, would you pass me the soap?"

"Er, yeah, where is it?"

Sherlock stretched in a rather exaggerated manner. "Over there," he pointed at the counter, revealing one of his long white arms. I felt an excited spasm course through my body. I was being far too obvious, once again.

I handed him the soap, and was about to go back to my washing, but Sherlock wasn't finished.

"Mrs. Hudson's rather peeved with us, wasting the water in such a manner."

"Wasting the water?" I burst out laughing. "I'm not the one using half a month's supply!"

"We'll have to learn to conserve," Sherlock said languidly, rubbing the soap over his body. I felt myself tingle in a variety of places. "The water, I mean. Get in, would you?"

"Uh, _what?_"

"You heard me. Besides, what better way to save the precious water supply than to bathe together? It's only logical."

"Jesus, Sherlock, I -"

"Oh, stop being a prude," Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It's obvious you fancy me, though God knows why. The feeling is mutual, so why not join me? It's very innocent, I assure you."

I couldn't tell if he was serious or not, so I continued to gape at him. Sherlock, evidently realizing his sass was getting him nowhere, perched his elbows on the edge of the tub and leaned forward, brushing a wet curl from his forehead.

"John," he said seductively, "Join me in the bath. Please."

I swallowed heavily, and then, without further ado, pulled off my clothes and stepped in tentatively, well aware that my erection was right in his face. Sherlock smiled with satisfaction.

"How did you know -?"

"Oh, shut up," he grumbled, pulling me down next to him. "Look, there's plenty of room here - water is being saved - how is this not the perfect setup?"

"I won't be interrupting your, er, thinking -?"

"No." Sherlock scooted closer, and I felt a sinewy leg up against my own. I blushed like a schoolgirl. "Not in the slightest." He pulled me close and kissed me, his lips soft and still a bit wet.

I was pretty shocked - this tall, sleek, handsome man wanted me for his own. Ordinary John Watson. And he, of all people, was initiating. That, in the end, convinced me that he wasn't joking, and so I returned the kiss.

"See what I mean?" Sherlock said with a grin. "There's something about bathing that, er - heightens the senses. Archimedes was certainly on to something, though I doubt he had _this_ in mind." He reached a hand under the water and massaged my lower half, very slowly. I tried unsuccessfully to stifle a moan.

"I doubt it's just the bathing that's doing the trick," I finally managed.

Sherlock's grin widened, and the stroking continued.

* * *

Eventually we got out, due only to the fact that the water was getting awfully cold. Sherlock threw on his pyjamas and dressing-gown, and I got into my tracksuit bottoms. With a small smile, Sherlock tilted back my head and kissed me again.

"This is certainly a good development, though not entirely unexpected," he admitted.

I rolled my eyes in just the manner he always did. So, what, he'd just thought I'd jump into his arms? Well, no matter; he'd guessed me right, anyway. I wrapped my arms around his willowy frame and held him close.

"You're such a tease," I complained.

"What?"

"All that with the 'pass me the soap, John', and the 'get in the tub, John'! You think I'm just going to answer to your crazy ideas for the rest of my life?"

"I don't think it, I know it."

"Sherlock!"

"And I'll do the same for you," he answered, sounding earnest. He motioned upstairs to the bedroom, and I was only too happy to join him. Who could resist, after all?

Our nighttime rituals had changed a bit, but they'd certainly changed for the better.


End file.
